


Opulent

by bunnyfication



Series: alphabet prompt fics [10]
Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyfication/pseuds/bunnyfication
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He smiles, just in case Koumyou is looking. An idle challenge to someone who has caught his eye, not that he's expecting much of a competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opulent

The world, as Ken'yuu sees it, is a dreary, grey place. He has heard people speak of darkness as if it's something deep and mysterious...but he has looked into it, and it's nothing much either. In the end he decides people only make such a fuss over it because they're afraid.

He almost wishes he were, that might at least be less **boring**.

So he keeps looking around, but books are only a collection of dusty dead words, and professors and so called wise people all parrot out those very same words, with a new spin, if they are slightly cleverer, but it's never anything he couldn't have found out on his own.

People live, and then they die and become dust and are forgotten. Dead words, minds set on meaningless tasks, and under everyone's skin the same old, same red blood that dries up into dreary brown too soon. Uninteresting.

Time falls on his shoulder like dust, day after day and year after year, and he feels old. It seems he has already accomplished everything worth doing, and found it not worth the time spent on it. Seen everything and found it not worth looking at. It makes him feel old, wonder if one day he will find that he _is_ old and grey and still hasn't accomplished anything worth remembering. 

It's no better at the temple, with the other novices who claim to strive for holiness but are no better than a bunch of monkeys who fawn and do as they're told when the instructor is watching, and make dirty jokes about him behind his back. Ken'yuu says it all to his face, only more wittily than the others could ever think of, and the idiots adore him for it. 

Adore and envy him, and he wonders what they say about _him_ when he doesn't hear, but doesn't particularly care. He can guess well enough anyway, they're not that unpredictable.

Nothing much is, as Ken'yuu has come to know.

Being a Sanzo sounds interesting, in theory. Even though he has seen the sutra supposedly used in the creation of the world, once, and it looked like any common scripture to him. So he is doubtful, but maybe it'll be worth a try. It's not like he has anything better to do at the moment.

And then, one day, one entirely ordinary day while he is heckling the instructor for some mild entertainment, Ken'yuu sees something bright from the corner of his eye, and turns, like a crow to a flash of sunlight on bright metal. He sees the man following Goudai, instantly analyzing and categorizing him.

Another Sanzo, obviously. That is interesting, aren't they supposed to keep the sutras apart? But then theory is never practice, is it? This one is nothing like the spartan Goudai. He has long, golden hair that falls down his back in an extravagant ponytail, and he's _pretty_ , with a few wrinkles that probably just made him look more handsome than he did as a youth, Ken'yuu can just imagine it. Still, he's young for a Sanzo, which tells Ken'yuu _who_ he is, because he's not deaf, and has every intention of breaking this man's record as the youngest Sanzo ever.

He is laughing when Ken'yuu turns, yet another contrast with Goudai, and then it's like a shadow passes over his face, as Goudai says something, and Ken'yuu just _knows_ , with a odd thrill, that they're talking about him. He smiles, just in case Koumyou is looking. An idle challenge to someone who has caught his eye, not that he's expecting much of a competition.

He would find out later just how wrong he was about that.

It takes him a long time to understand it, too long, that the true nature of darkness isn't in the _absence_ of light, but to be its opposite. That there is no deep shadow without the light to measure it against. 

All he knows as he sits in barred room, the marks of fingers on his wrist still aching like a new brand, is that his world has suddenly been thrown into deep, rich contrast. That the edge of moonlight and shadow is sharp as a knife's edge, capable of cutting his destiny in half. He listens to Koumyu's words, as calm and cool as moonlight, and wonders if this is his chance to be something, slipping by while he is powerless to grasp it. Beneath the trivial burn of disappointment, Ken'yuu is not sure if the other feeling he's feeling is relief or bland despondency. 

There is the soft click of an opened lock, and when Ken'yuu turns, the barred window is free of any shadow, only pure moonlight streaming in.


End file.
